


silver linings (made of metal)

by ImperialEvolution



Category: Wolf 359 (Radio)
Genre: Angst, Feelings? In your Kepler? It's more likely than you think, M/M, POV Second Person, Relationship Study, This is so short but it's never gonna get any longer, Y'all'd've
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-10-16
Updated: 2018-10-16
Packaged: 2019-08-03 00:18:43
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 368
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16315463
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ImperialEvolution/pseuds/ImperialEvolution
Summary: You think, maybe, if he opened up, you'd have the right words.





	silver linings (made of metal)

He sobs at night. You pretend you don't hear him, hear him biting his own fist and screaming without lungs full enough to carry the sound.

You think he's grateful for that, but what do you know? He's never been one to talk about his feelings (what does that make you?), he never trusted you enough to open up, actually open up, instead of sobbing into your chest and kissing you with all the taste and elegance of a Molotov cocktail.

He hasn't done that in a long time. Kissed you, that is. You're not sure you want him to. You're not sure that you want to kiss him, either. There is a difference, after all, a vulnerability in leaning into his space and initiating it all. When he does it he burns bright and untouchable, but when you do it. Well. It's wrong. You aren't sitting back and watching the show. You're in it, strung along with the acting troupe, unable or unwilling to break the cycle for fear of the reprimand you'll receive. And with Cutter as the director, you've no doubt it'll be violent.

Y'all'd've liked to have thought there was no crime in letting him do it to you. Maybe there was no wrong with undressing him, first with your eyes and then your wandering hands, slipping into momentary into the thrall of him, the thrill of such a simple dance. You'd always liked the look of him shedding those pretty little strands of dignity with alongside the designer jeans you brought him.

But you don't mention any of that to him. Doing that would mean losing the game of chicken you've always played. Feelings are for the mentally stable, after all, and it's not like this line of work encourages any sense of moral compass.

You think, maybe, if he opened up, you'd have the right words. You also think your head has been so completely separated from your neck and stuffed so far up your own ass that you'd say nothing at all.

So you sit in silence, focusing on the blue light from the star and the emptiness that was your right hand as he bites down on his and screams.

**Author's Note:**

> So uhhh, my gf found my AO3 page. Sooo. That's fun. Anyway, hit me up on tumblr @imperial-evolution. I swear I'll make a writing blog in the near future. Have a good day, y'all.


End file.
